Dr. Bryant elevated her pillow that she might rest more easily.  She lifted her eyes to his pale face.  “Frank, will you turn the sofa that I may see the sun set once more?”

He moved it to the west window, and drew aside the curtain that the golden beams might enter:  she could not look out, for the sofa was low, and sitting down beside her, he passed his arm around her, and lifted her head to his bosom.  For a time she looked out on the brilliant hues of the setting sun, now just visible above the tree tops.  Slowly it sank, then disappeared forever to her vision.  Once Dr. Bryant had seen her lips move, as in prayer; now the deep blue eyes were again raised to the loved face bending over her.

“Long ago, I prayed to God that I might fade away gently, and die a painless death.  He has granted my petition.  All things seem very calm and beautiful—­earth ne’er looked so like heaven before; yet how insignificant in comparison with the glories which await me.  Frank, if aught could draw me back, and make me loth to leave this world, it would be my love for you.  Life would be so bright passed by your side.  You know the depth of my love, yet I may not remain.  Frank, tell me that you can give me up for a little while.  Oh! can you not say, ‘God’s will-be done?’”

“Mary, it is a terrible trial to yield you up, when I looked forward so joyously to the future.  It is hard to think of the long, long dreary years that are to come, and know that you will not be near me; that I cannot see your face, or hear your loved tones.  Oh, Mary, you know not the bitterness of this hour; yet I can say God’s will be done, for I have conquered my own heart, but every earthly joy and hope has passed away.  To our reunion I must ever look as my only comfort, and I pray God that it may be speedy.”

He bent his head till his lips rested on the white brow, now damp in death.  Wearily she turned her face toward his; he clasped the wasted form tightly to his heart, and kissed the pale lips; her fingers clasped his hand gently, and she whispered, “Good-by!”

“Good-by, my darling Mary!—­my own angel one, good-by!”

Again he pressed his lips to hers, and then rested her head more easily upon his arm.  The eyes closed, and those who stood watching her low, irregular breathing, fancied she slept again.

One arm was around her, while the other supported the drooping head.  Her beautiful brown hair fell over his arm, and left exposed the colorless face.  She was wasted, yet beautiful in its perfect peace and joy was the expression which rested on her features.  Dr. Bryant, leaning his noble brow on hers, felt her spirit pass away in the last sigh which escaped her lips.  Yet he did not lift his head.  Cold as marble grew the white fingers which lingered in his, still he clasped her tightly.  He sat with closed eyes, communing with his own saddened heart; he was stilling the agony which welled up, and casting forth the bitterness which mingled darkly with his grief, and he said unto his tortured soul:  “Be still! my treasure is laid up in heaven.”